


To Still the Beating of My Heart

by brokenmemento



Category: The Haunting of Bly Manor (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Death, Developing Relationship, F/F, Falling In Love, Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:08:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26970394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenmemento/pseuds/brokenmemento
Summary: Dani and Jamie don’t mean for it to happen but it does—to find one another amongst the never ending heartache.What they find in each other soothes their hearts for a little while. What they find lasts a lifetime and more.
Relationships: Dani Clayton/Jamie
Comments: 5
Kudos: 124





	1. The Beginning and the Middle

**Author's Note:**

> *Like many of you, these two consumed me and I can’t stop crying about how their story ended up. While this isn’t necessarily a “fix it” fic, I do play with the ending a little. 
> 
> It’s still heart wrenching though because I haven’t moved past that emotion from it yet. Plus I write angst and heartache better than fluff anyway.
> 
> **Title and a few lines of Jamie’s chapter taken from the famous gothic poem about love and loss, “The Raven” by Edgar Allan Poe.

She’d like to say it’s the greatest love story ever told. And in her heart of hearts, (the one that stopped beating quite some time ago) she holds it to still be true. 

But the thing about love stories, as with any just regular old one, is that they all have to end somehow. Whether that be in magic or contentment or soft, quiet peace. Whether they resolve in ache or strife or longing. They all end someday. 

But for every shadow cast across the lawns and lakes of the grounds at the manor, something greater than the darkness grew here too.

It’s this she thinks about as she gazes up at the moon each night, imagining its circular shape as the middle of a flower bearing its name too. It’s the face she longs to see as she glides across the grounds of the place each day—of one emerging from the foliage and containing the most radiant smile she ever had the pleasure to see.

//

She isn’t supposed to notice the gardener, but she does. The air of aloofness to her is cursory and confounding. It’s something the woman uses as restraint, Dani senses. 

While England is still new, her grasp on manners is not and she’s sure that what’s considered them is the same both here and across the pond. How openly staring is probably not the way to go, no other outlet for her curiosity seeming to fit though. 

If poles exist in people, the gardener is very much Dani’s opposite. Dirt on her hands and faded overalls on her body. Hair a little disheveled and still managing to look so damn cool. Even the combat boots on her feet project a sense of no nonsense, ready to stomp through what may come. 

Even though, Dani suspects, the gardener doesn’t automatically default to that setting. Again, the restraint. And maybe it’s this that causes her to look longer than she knows is polite. But if she’s honest with herself, truly and wholly, it’s because the woman with the soil on her skin is also becoming someone she imagines with a flower behind her ear.

She’s mesmerizing. 

No part of watching her across the brunch table should feel like familiarity, no single second one of irrational ease. The gardener doesn’t even look at her for most of it as it passes by in chatter. 

Dani moves around the food on her plate, irrevocably stuck and not knowing what to do. Somewhere deep, a smile unfurls and threatens its way forth. A plan splutters to life, jolted by the electricity thrumming in her chest. 

She’s going to catch the gardener’s eyes. She’s going to learn what color they are. 

//

Her name is Jamie and she is a conundrum and a half. When she’s not lost somewhere dark inside of herself, Dani reminds herself of what she has planned. 

When she’s not checking mirrors or peeking over her shoulder, she tells herself that Jamie is someone she wants to know. She can’t help but feel drawn to her, a moth to the proverbial flame. 

When her throat develops sound and her mouth opens though, she’s a stammer. A stutter kind of speech trips off of her tongue any time that Jamie is near and what is this that’s happening when she’s just buried a _man_ under the ground?

Has this always been lying there, in the dark or paralyzed? Or has Jamie simply given Dani sight when she was wandering around aimlessly? Maybe she’s had her own glinting lights overtaking her eyes, so gone from the possibility in the world, that she’s never been able to take it in properly. 

The thing becomes looks passed, a shakiness of her heart developing. A constant earthquake, always rumbling inside her ribs. Dani sees Jamie for all that she is and she wants to know absolutely everything. 

It’s why she touches her hand one night as Jamie starts to leave. Like maybe she can take away the trauma and every flicker of what aches incessantly down below if she just gets to feel some of that goodness that Jamie seems to have endless amounts of.

Like maybe Jamie could calm that rampant beat that she causes in Dani’s heart too. Like maybe, just maybe, Dani wants to let her. 

So it’s inevitable really. Dani begins to fall for the gardener and why not this new thing too? She never gets to be more alive than in those wonderful moments where she can forget who she is for a little while. 

//

There’s this thing about ghosts. How people always say they have unfinished business which is why they’re strapped to the mortal world, destined to roam forever. She’s seen enough stories to know what the facts are supposed to be of them. 

That they come on foggy nights or stand in dark corners. That they hover over beds to slide into ears and brains when dreams are starting to form. That chests hold them packed tightly, that they develop on feet like chains and in ears like wails. 

It’s all of these things he has become to Dani as time has gone by. Running should have never been the answer, but she has let it be. From one nightmare into another. Or perhaps the same one on repeat. 

Dani doesn’t know how long she can truly beat herself up over his death. Over the man she was supposed to love endlessly but couldn’t quite get to the finish line. As if love could or can ever be a race. 

The story of him and them comes out over the crackle of the fire, dancing like fireflies in the cold air. Some version of the loss she’s never spoken of, now only alludes to. 

She walks away from it, running again, never expecting to let the whole thing hit that same crisp air. But in comes Jamie. 

In comes Jamie and whatever Dani thought she would be able to say or do goes right out the greenhouse windows because this person before her isn’t just the gardener anymore. 

It’s Jamie with her curly hair and lopsided grin. It’s her furrowed brow and the sweet gentle ease of her Cockney accent that lulls Dani into a sliver of serenity. Into not looking over her shoulder or out of her peripheral, searching for out of place things in her increasingly out of place life. 

There’s something to be said about compulsion too, just like possession. How it can twist even the most innocent of things into sentience. Just like it does inside of Dani’s head because it starts to whisper at her to look at Jamie’s lips. 

Then it’s telling her to kiss those same lips, to taste them and take the flavor of them home to her own body. To sift through the experience of it and then bury it deep so that the world will never know of the desire laced against it. So they can never judge her for flipping to the other side and craving Jamie like air. 

So without any good sense and a thousand different reasons, Dani leans forward to take Jamie’s mouth against her own. The peace of the act washes over her immediately, a lock clicking into place, and she knows she’s well and forever ruined for another soul again. 

Just as this thought takes hold, her eyes flutter open between the interspersed moments of bliss to see _his_ shining, beam-like eyes watching. Always watching. 

Dani jerks back with a cry, not at all connected to the wilting woman in front of her and everything to do with the silhouetted face of the man she could never cherish completely. 

Now more than ever, she knows her assertion that night had been right: that she couldn’t give him what he sought because it didn’t exist in her anymore anyway. That if she’s being honest, it never really did. 

As her heart lurches in her chest watching Jamie walk away carrying her misguided shame, Dani lets the absence of sound envelop her once the greenhouse door closes. 

This is the thing about ghost stories though. In hers, Dani thinks that he’s not appearing because he has something left to say. In this version, maybe it’s because she did. 

Closing her eyes, she can still see the calming of the blue green irises of the woman who has walked away. When she looks at Jamie, the woman turns mere wondering into knowing. Because Dani has been haunting herself with the words she never spoke that day. 

That she believes in being in love with a soul, not a gender. And his soul hadn’t been right. And Jamie’s is feeling like it absolutely is. 

//

There’s a lot the world doesn’t know about Jamie. How she is soft. So incredibly so. That for that tough girl exterior, she’s equally opposite of that inside where it counts. 

They never get to see that she is thoughtful in her touch, be it plant or animal or Dani’s own wild and careening heart. That she smiles into kisses. Kisses like breath will always end and she’ll be left with phantom tendrils of something that she never got enough of. 

But Dani notices. Dani gets to see it all as they chat about things that matter a lot underneath canopied trees and raindrops on fall nights. Jamie weaves her story into the fabric of her philosophy of life, tells exactly why she has given up on a lot of humanity. 

Dani has experienced more ache attached to this woman than she knows what to do with, even in the short time of knowing her. Ache tied to want. Ache tied to desire. Ache tied to wanting to sweep her in her arms and protect her from absolutely everything. 

The flower’s bloom feels like a metaphor for what’s going on in Dani’s chest cavity, how it feels full up with Jamie and all the more beautiful because of it. How it needs her touch and seeks her encompassing essence, begs for her to be near even when she’s far away. 

That night, she pushes Jamie back near her flowers, wraps her own fingers around the wrought iron like the vines. She presses her body against the woman who makes life spring from her fingertips and falls a little more, sinks a little deeper. 

By the time that they’re sharing that beer and sharing more chatter about things that don’t really matter, Dani is to the point of wanting to know body in addition to soul. She admits this when the amber liquid in their glasses have disappeared, when the only place left to go is up and down. Up to Jaime’s apartment and down to, well…

So they do. They fall together again or climb to the tippy-top, lips never once leaving one another as hands claw and rake and find. 

Jamie pulls Dani up the stairs and up to the clouds and up up _up_ until there’s nowhere left to go but plummeting back to earth again. 

There’s the wood of Jaime’s flat door and there’s the pliant but strong flesh of Jaime’s body and the silk softness of Jamie’s sheets as she takes Dani apart at the seams. 

By whisper, by moan, by nimble fingers, by growing emotion, Dani absolutely doesn’t know how she can continue to survive the onslaught of what this woman makes her feel, all sense of forbidden things. 

A jolt of epinephrine to her chest, socked in the gut and ribs and in the always present pool in her belly. These are Jamie’s things, the places that she lives. These are lovely on end. 

Dani lets go for this completely. It’s what sends her submerging herself in the idea of Jamie when they’re both together and apart. It’s what has her drowning over and over again. 

Because there suddenly isn’t a day Dani can imagine without her. There isn’t a single one she wants to. And that seems like a type of ghost story all it’s own: tasting something once and chasing it the rest of your life. 

To remedy this, Dani formulates another plan. If she can successfully learn eyes and skin and soul, she supposes she might also master the art of being someone’s everything. 

Months pass before she finds the courage in a drooping damsel in distress (and least she likes to think of it that way) sitting outside, waiting to be taken, waiting to be loved. But rather than giving Jamie the chance to rehabilitate the weeping leaves, Dani decides to give her another task. 

She decides to deposit the ring at the upended roots, hoping that the little gold loop makes Jamie want to develop her own type of anchor with Dani in the form of becoming her wife. 

Dani tells Jamie that she wanted to save the plant. But really, what Dani hopes is that what’s down below will really save them both from what’s coming. And if not, having this will somehow be enough, even if it’s just between their two hearts. 


	2. The Sort of End and Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie’s point of view of her life with Dani

The au-pair is a lighthouse that if Jamie can just reach, they’ll make it just fine. But the waves are high and the rocks are jagged. 

Nothing is ever easy, especially when you want it to be. It’s this that Jamie tells herself every time she feels like she’s been cast out to sea again. She’s got rope and enough fortitude but she just needs a sign that the au-pair has a dock that’s worth latching onto. 

That’s not how this story begins though. 

It springs to life in a backward sort of way. At Jaime thinking this American girl really is like a fish out of water. Not quite as brash as she’s come to think of those from the states, she still has that deer in the headlights look when it comes to rearing children and taking care of even herself and making sense of up from down it seems. 

So what starts as mild irritation and somewhat disbelief morph into piqued curiosity. Maybe Jamie is a little bit amused with watching the American flounder...but never struggle. 

She feels for her, she does. The woman seems prone to bouts of panic and Jamie is never quite sure when she’ll find her curled in the bushes and tears running down her face. She thinks about the plants, about how the woman’s tears are probably oversaturing them, but then decides it poor form and turns the joke on herself. 

It earns her a smile, a genuine one coming to life beyond the pain, and suddenly Jamie feels it her sacred duty to do this a lot more, even if she’s only supposed to care about shrubs and trees. 

The thing about water is that it’s good at lying. At looking placid and safe when there’s always so much more below the surface. Just like people’s eyes. The same qualities count to them too. 

Dani’s are a special kind of pool. Jamie swims in those blue eyes over and over again, still so afraid to lose herself completely. She knows this woman can overtake her if she’s not careful.

The kiss in the greenhouse is a fluke, she tells herself. A one-off. A bugger of a problem but one she can handle. Until it isn’t. 

Until she’s saying things like _I’ve spent a whole lot of my life living a certain type of way. Uneventful. Borin’. She shrugs. It’s worked for me. Until now. Because I can’t stop thinking about that kiss. And it makes me want to be anythin’ but boring._ Until the water becomes droplets on her shoulders and she just can’t stop herself anymore.

Dani is a petal, smooth and delicate, and Jamie wants to let her grow inside of her chest for all eternity. There’s no resisting when she’s already taken root. Jamie grabs at the vines, wraps them around her arms, legs, heart. Dani is tethered to her, no two ways about it. 

//

She’s a gardener, but she feels like she needs armor. Every day is a battle, a fight against a riptide that snatches with slick fingertips. But Jamie fights like hell. 

She’s found the be all, end all. That frightening type of feeling that wrecks someone completely. The thing that doesn’t know how to be frightened away and can live against the shadows for as long as it possibly can. 

Jamie makes love to her the very next time, almost the first crack of the bat. (An American analogy for her all-American girl) They’ve already had the night of the flower, Dani gently shoving her into the metal at her back. 

Before she takes her to her bed this time, she pushes her against the door to her flat and lets the emotion pour out of her while the alcohol warms her a bit.

She’s nowhere near drunk and neither is Dani. They’d made it through a pint and a half before the tension had been too much and they kissed all the way up the stairs. Dani is practically perfect as she lights up like a lamp when Jamie touches her finally. 

So of course it happens again after Jamie figures out that touching Dani is what she wants to do for the rest of her life. It continues over and over. 

It leads her to following her girl and her heart 3,000 miles to a country she swore she’d never see, much less be a part of. Because love makes you do some pretty fucking stupid things. 

It’s why she utters I’m in love with you because it’s blooming out from her heart. She takes what she can get. She was never supposed to have anything anyway. 

//

Years pass and she’s floating in bliss. The kind fairy tales speak of and that works its way into songs. Right, well, whatever. All Jamie knows is there’s Dani, with her beautiful heart that just knows how to hold Jamie’s too, giving her the best kind of home. 

And Jamie gives as good as she gets, learns the rhythm of patience and the somewhat proper ways to displace the bloody fear that they are a smoldering wick. While she’s been lost in them burning, she’s failed to see how they get closer to their end every single day. 

But she doesn’t let this drive their life together. They rent a flat together, erect beds and bookshelves. Jamie deposits plants in the nooks and lets a world build around them from their own hands creating. 

The depth to which she loves Dani is bottomless it seems. She devours the time she is given with her but is also mindful of its teetering existence too. That tomorrow isn’t promised and yesterday is a gift that she is somehow continually given. 

This does not lull her into complacency or make her forget the beating of the beast of darkness underneath Dani’s breast. It does not escape her thoughts when her hand and her mouth are against it, trying to flush out the shadows and deposit the light.

She doesn’t believe in a higher power really, not after what she’s seen, but she finds herself slipping into the bathroom one night to seek Him out. 

Jamie stares into the mirror and watches as her bottom lip quivers, feels the staggering wrenching of her chest. She doesn’t want to lose—not when she’s gotten to have for so long. 

“Oi...I…” Jamie stalls. Not sure how she’s begun is exactly the right way to be addressing a god, if there is one. She presses on anyway in a whisper. “I’m not sure whether I’m talking to someone or just meself, but I figure now is as good a time as any to start saying some things I need to.”

She stops and lets out a choking sigh. “You see, I need Dani there.” Jamie throws her head back the direction of the closed door, knowing her gist will be understood. “And I can’t help thinking she needs me too. So if everythin’ they say is true about you and your prayers…”

She looks back into the mirror then. “Consider this mine.” 

Jamie wipes a tear away and goes back to burrow in the arms of Dani once again. And when tranquility spreads through the cavity of her chest, Jamie has half a mind to believe in the man upstairs. Maybe prayers do get answered. Maybe he’s going to let Dani continue to complete her.

Morning comes. Then another. And another. It all feels really good until Jamie notices Dani starting to wither. Try she does, damn it all. She’d hold Dani bruisingly to her chest if she thought it would change the tides of time. 

It is bigger though. Bigger than everyone and everything and while the world keeps on turning, no one knows how hard it is to watch the thing you love most fade like a photograph as that time builds and etches away. 

Jamie can already feel her heart cracking because she knows how this ends. How this is their trek to the finale of their life together. With Dani staring blank eyed into overfilled tubs or stopping mid-motion to develop glazed pupils that become more difficult to unfix each time. 

She loves her though, through all of it. Against all the odds, beyond the edge of possession. Jamie lets Dani be whoever she’s been and whatever she is because Jamie still feels for the woman to the very end of her own soul. 

Dani warns her. Not just once but repeatedly. Not that she’s a bloody fool but all she knows how to do is take it one day at a time. That’s until she begins one of them and Dani is nowhere to be found. 

A note is lying on the nightstand, the lingering scent of Dani still clinging to her abandoned pillow. The way Jamie feels cleaved into, the other half of her going to die. To meet her maker head on. To end the curse for all of its days.

_Where I am going, you cannot follow. Unlike my love for you, this does have to end._

Jamie swims in her own tears, works against the ripping of her own chest. 

_I know you love me exactly how you're supposed to. So do me this one last thing: please let me go. To save you. To save us all._

Jamie has turned into a fighter, you see. So while Dani is absolutely right about her loving her the way she should, it is for precisely that reason that she can’t do what she’s been bidden. 

It’s why she throws on her jeans and sneakers and finds herself in the back of a car, heading toward her old nightmare, her blinking phantom dream. To the life before where she found Dani and got to know her. To the life she’s living now having loved her and walking toward her lover’s imminent end. 

The fog on the water is just like she remembers it, both yesterday and a lifetime ago. Only now, she knows Dani’s under it and she finds herself thinking it the only place for her too. After all, how much more can her body be wrecked seeing Dani’s life snuffed out? No more so than living with the blurry unknown of it until the end. 

Still, she screams though. Begs the god she once asked to keep Dani here to now take her to the afterlife with the love of her living one. The water fills her throat but she cannot find it in herself to let go and drown. 

Dani’s words pool in her mind, deposit a phantom hand along her back, and shove her back to the surface, choking and gasping for air to survive. She paddles and paws at the lack of certainty to the water, fighting to not let it claim. 

Her fingers go to graze along the golden band, a promise made not nearly long enough ago. Her heart weeps. As she sits on the bank, she knows she’s the one that’s been left behind. 

Time, as it turns out, is not endless.

 **_Epilogue_ **:

At first, being in the wake of it feels like being pulled apart from the inside. Like stomach and lungs and heart will never find their rightful homes again because everything is shifting and swirling about. 

Death has a funny way of dealing with the living though. It’s duality of splitting someone down the middle so that they may fall into halves but then stitching the same half of a human back to its sort of original form, catgut forming eventual white lines. 

No one lives life without the scars of it. No one is absent its weight. No one walks back around to it without having been yanked into chunks over and over again. 

Jamie was never good with poetry. Downright shite at school mostly. But it’s this she repeats in her head as she carries the heft of their story, carves it into her mind and wraps it around her heart. A tattoo to never forget, a tale to hold onto. 

So in the space between, she takes to waiting. It becomes a ritual of sorts, the beginning to a lifelong fascination with water. 

Jamie’s life consists of waiting by the bath, waiting by the sink. Waiting by the door. Waiting for something that doesn’t ever seem likely to come. She does it anyway. 

This waiting turns into a decade of holding a pattern and with each passing moment, Jamie has to think she’s one second closer to Dani again. To the beautiful, perfect face that she still sees in her mind's eye every time she stops long enough to breathe. 

She grows a little grayer. Her taut skin develops the lines of life and she loses herself in her own reflection in the opacity of the liquids she looks into. Mirrors are equally not haunting when Jamie so desperately wishes they would be. 

Isn’t that what all the stories had promised when she was but a lass? That ghosts would appear. And she’d read the knight’s tales too, of Camelot and a sword to save the whole of Britain if not the world. How Arthur had been given it by the enchantress of the water, a gift to aid him in living. 

So why hasn’t Jamie seen her own lady then? Is it because Dani can offer no gift for her while she continues to wake each day? Is it because nothing can comfort the quiet disquiet of Jamie’s very soul as it continues to float along without Dani by her side?

She goes to Flora’s wedding. She tells them the ghost story, the phantom fable of her heart. Because in close to five decades, no one has made Jamie feel quite like Dani did when they still had the hands of youth and her own face was 28. 

Jamie tells it in the layers of them both, still shrouded to protect the girl across from her but not so far removed as to not be a leaking catharsis too. 

Because she’s the one that got left behind to take the place of Dani saying goodbye. Because she carries Dani in her chest everywhere. Because she’s been her own kind of banshee woman, her own kind of nodding nearly napping person that is pulling back a purple curtain or waiting for a tapping on her chamber door. 

Stuck forever lingering, hoping against hope that Dani will rise from her watery grave, will decide the lake can do without her a little while, and come to find Jamie again. 

Beautiful Dani, flowered for but mere moments and a few scant breaths, then was gone for eternity. But unlike their flower, Jamie can’t simply plant her again. She will not grow into bones and skin and blood again no matter how hard Jamie tends to the thought of her in her mind, shifting it about with mental hands. 

The night of the wedding, she falls asleep to this after running the tap and filling the tub, capturing the liquid. 

“Baby, I miss everything about you,” she whispers on the lonely night. Touches the water to make a ripple appear. 

After, she goes to the final step and opens the door just a crack. She’s getting old, but she curls in the chair and drifts off to smooth and rosy cheeks, soft and delicious lips, eyes the color of water and soil. 

Somewhere inside of her sleep, she feels the hand pressing into her shoulder. A part of her thinks she can almost smell her perfume. She follows its scent out of dreamland and opens her eyes with a flutter. 

They don’t focus right away or process what’s finally happening. The hand closes around her shoulder and Jamie can just make out the gold glint in her peripheral from an unaged hand. Her mouth goes dry and her heart might beat out of her chest if it hadn't already stopped completely. 

“Do you still want me like this even though I’m a shadow of who I used to be?” she smiles sadly and can imagine the lines in her face from the years. It’s not the first thing she’s meant to say after years of wanting but it comes out anyway. 

The hand moves from shoulder to waist, golden hair flowing where the hand once was. Lips on the side of her neck causing Jamie to tilt her head, another memory from so much time ago. 

“I never forgot you, even though the stories said it would be true. I needed you to believe that though too.” She hasn’t heard that American cadence in years and it’s just how she remembers. “As I’ve stared up day after day, I’ve made your face out of so many clouds. Wishing you’d come back again so I could see you once more. But Jamie, my love, I never wanted to be your end.”

“You were it anyway.” Jamie turns then, raises a weathered hand to Dani’s face. The one that hasn’t changed a day since she last kissed it before they fell asleep in each other’s arms. The one that was gone when she woke up the next morning. “I’ve barely lived a day since you left me. How is that for carrying a ghost?”

The tears are coming in earnest now as Jamie rests her chin on the back of the chair, staring into Dani’s eyes and cupping her young cheeks. She cannot help it—she leans forward and takes Dani’s lips hungrily against her own, parched for so many years and finally being quenched. 

The longer they kiss, the more the tears come but Jamie finds herself smiling into it anyway. Like the years are really just yesterdays anyway. 

“Shh, my sweet darling.” Dani tries to soothe. “I’m here now. We can be together again.” 

Finally, it’s time. There’s no more waiting to be had. No more wondering. No more longing. Jamie will find a way to pull them both up or take them both straight down. 

She looks into Dani’s eyes again, wiping her own tears away. “We were always beautiful because we were going to end someday. Like our flower, right?” The ever present ache in her chest has turned into the effervescence of her undying love. 

“Yes, baby. Just like that,” Dani smiles and kisses her again. 

When they part, she looks down at their entwined hands, her own in the prime of her life again. Her mouth falls open when she looks up to silently question Dani into answers. 

What stares back at her is the rakish gardener, dirt covered overalls and Converse sneakers on her feet reflected in Dani’s eyes. She blinks and Dani is there again, all quirked smile and warming Jamie’s heart beyond reason. 

She grabs for Dani’s hand and holds it as tight as she can, determined to never let go. There’s no way this happiness can ever be matched, not in a million years. 

Jamie lets out a mirthful laugh and Dani follows suit. That’s when her vision swims and everything becomes Dani all around again. Just like it was always meant to be, the two of them together forever. 

She relaxes into it because she’s tired of it just being her story anyway. It’s time it was back to the both of theirs. 


End file.
